When I arrived in Lausanne, part of the Swiss Romande—in other words, the French-speaking part of Switzerland—I marveled that I’d meet people who’d lived here for decades (not just years) who didn’t speak French beyond the bare-minimum basics of what they needed to function.

And I’d remember all the complaints I’d heard (and still hear) back in my native United States about people who’d moved to the country and hadn’t progressed much beyond the basics in English, either.

It seemed incredible to me. How could this happen?

And yet: Now I understand.

First: Let’s Define “Fluency” in a Language

The definition of fluency is vague.

I’d venture that some of the native English speakers I know aren’t “fluent” in their native language, if we formally tested them on their writing and reading abilities, how well they understand English in multiple registers of formality and technicality, and their pronunciation, vocabulary, and fluidity in conversation and presentation.

However, for the purposes of this article, I’ll define “fluent” as someone who can function almost as well as a native in the society in which they live, personally and professionally.

And given this definition, fluency involves years of dedicated effort, especially for someone who has life obligations other than language learning.

The Language-Learning “Wall”

When I write “people,” I mean grown adults. Kids younger than eleven years of age who immigrate and attend local schools (not international private schools that cater to families who speak a certain language) learn the local language through total and relatively sudden immersion. They don’t have the choice—they’ve entered the educational system, which conducts courses in the local language, and they will spend years there.

Most adults do not enter a country and immediately drop into a public education system on a full-time, long-term basis.

Nevertheless, the adults I’ve met here in Lausanne who cannot speak French had good intentions of learning it when they moved here, especially if they’d planned to spend more than a year or two. (If you have a short-term work assignment, fully learning a language rarely makes sense as an investment of time, energy, and money.)

However, even with the best of intentions, many of the adults I’ve met who immigrated hit a wall at some point and stopped progressing or even trying to progress in gaining fluency in the local language, even if they’d planned to stay for the long term—if not forever.

Why?

The Barriers against Learning a Local Language to Fluency Levels

Let me tell you: The wall is real. Even after all my efforts to learn French, I feel its contours regularly.

Frankly, it’s simply too easy to relax into your foreigner cocoon past a certain level of language literacy. You get easily lulled into your linguistic comfort zone—as we do into all comfort zones.

Our human nature nudges us to spend time with people who we see as “like us” and to prefer not to struggle in our personal lives and free time. Most places where people immigrate have other people who speak their native languages—and, at a minimum, unless they move solo, their immediate families will speak their native languages.

Numerous studies about the United States cite Spanish-speaking immigrants as people most likely to spend most or all of their time exclusively in Spanish, thanks to the large number of people who speak Spanish in the United States. In Houston, where I grew up, the large population of Vietnamese immigrants meant that many people could spend their days almost entirely with other Vietnamese people, needing only the bare minimum of English to get by. (Much like the many native English speakers I’ve met in Lausanne.)

Although this can pose challenges for larger societal integration and to the assimilation of these immigrants into their adopted country—and to the feeling of alienation, isolation, and limitation that these immigrants often experience—the sadness of the situation doesn’t make it easier for them to rock out of the rut they’ve fallen into.

Our busy lives limit the free time we have in general to develop new connections of any kind—and this is doubly (or triply) the case with a language barrier involved. These challenges only get bigger when you consider that these people will have some friends who speak only their native language and some friends who speak only the local language, making gatherings among friend groups difficult. How do you integrate your friend groups when they can’t all communicate?

Even more challenging: I have a friend who has worked hard to learn French and wants to continue to improve—but her husband aims only to get proficient enough to manage basic daily tasks. Though she’s made some French-speaking acquaintances, she can’t socialize with them without leaving out her husband—which she doesn’t want to do. This creates an entirely new barrier to her attaining language fluency.

And honestly, it’s difficult to find opportunities to get beyond the basics—beyond what you practice in language classes—in a new language. You’ll find either activities and classes for early-stage learners—or events for native speakers, where you may not feel comfortable or may get shrugged off by people who find you too challenging for easy conversation. (You can read more about these particular challenges in my article about the weird things that foreigners experience.)

The necessary hours of conversation with native speakers to achieve fluency begins to feel nearly unattainable.

And these interactions will prove critical to gaining real fluency. The interaction hypothesis of second-language acquisition and the complex dynamic systems theory in linguistics both consider interaction—particularly the need to accomplish tasks of varying complexity and establish meaning in communication between fluent speakers and language learners—essential. The necessary struggle, the dynamism, and the surprises will only happen when language learners go out into the world and the people there willingly engage with them.

Fully Learning a Language is Expensive

Add to these “soft” barriers the investment required for language learning, especially beyond the basics, and you gain even greater understanding of the phenomenon examined here.

Language learning has an extremely high cost. Classes, books, tutors, and time—all of which resources are in short supply for everyone and especially for adults with children, jobs, families, and lives to manage—add up quickly.

Even if you can earn a higher income by speaking the local language—as research has shown—you still need to short-term afford the cost of working less and paying for the courses, all while trying to study and manage your life overall. It’s a massive investment.

Children have language learning easier not because they can learn more easily—which I consider debatable, frankly—but because they have more time, fewer worries, and more flexibility and plasticity in their schedules and lives.

Language learning requires hundreds, if not thousands, of hours of work. (To achieve fluency, most experts calculate about 2,000 hours of effort from zero to near-native levels.)

Given that few adults have nothing else to do other than work on language acquisition full-time—even if your brain could effectively absorb new knowledge in a single subject on a full-time basis, which I doubt—you can imagine how difficult and expensive hitting the 2,000-hour mark will be for most people.

Honestly, if the coronavirus crisis hadn’t left all of us with a lot more time at home than planned for a solid two-year stretch, I wouldn’t have achieved the B2 level of French as quickly as I did.

Language Learning for Adults: Real Challenges of Cost and Motivation

Combined, the expense of mastering a language and the soft barriers involved in achieving fluency—across all its facets, from written to aural to conversational—make it difficult for adults immigrating to an area with a different local language from one they speak already to learn to speak it fluently, even if the person initially wants to do so.

Either the immigrant cannot afford the language training in terms of time, money, or both—or they do their best and hit a wall when it comes to integrating with the locals and having in-depth conversations with native speakers.

The challenges of learning a language as an adult frequently wear away a person’s intentions for fluency, downshifting the immigrant’s intentions to basic proficiency. In other words, the person no longer cares to gain fluency in the local language, but rather aims to learn it well enough to reasonably function in the environment, even if they need the occasional help of someone more fluent to get “normal life” things done. (And if they have kids in the educational system quickly gaining fluency, they have easy access to the language support needed.)

The barriers of language learning have dampened their drive for attaining the fluency level required to have friends who speak the language or to live full-time in the target language for days or even weeks on end. Over time, many immigrants decide that they prefer to live predominantly in their language of comfort.

An important note: Lest these musings lend any credence to the notion that countries should curb immigration, because immigrants won’t assimilate and will, thereby, damage the local culture in some way—about all of which I vehemently disagree on several levels—do note that the studies referenced here show that 60 percent of people can speak the local language “well” or “very well” after seven years of residence and, per a California study, 80 percent of Spanish-speaking immigrants who had lived in the state for nine years or more reported that they could speak English. That’s a pretty significant sign of willingness to adapt, learn, and assimilate, I’d say.

But I Want to become Fluent!

So what if, like me, you want to actually learn a language to fluency level? What if you don’t want to get stuck at “just good enough to get by” language skills?

Part of winning every battle is planning. Once you know what to expect, you can better map the obstacles ahead and think through how to handle them when they arise. (For a look at my journey to learning French, read my article sharing my language-learning steps, tips, and tools.)

You will need to force yourself out of your language and cultural bubble and comfort zone over and over again. Do not let your comfort zone lull you away from your goal—and realize that it will get very tempting to let it do so, to quit struggling to communicate and make friends with native speakers and simply spend all your time with people who already speak your language and know your culture.

When you see this temptation arising, immediately sign up for an event or plan an activity to counter it.

Further, recognize the costs involved in learning a language to fluency and budget for them. These budgets need to include the financial expenses, of course—and the costs of the needed time, energy, and focus.

The more you can budget in all these categories, the faster you’ll progress. However, do not get derailed if you cannot budget a lot at first or ever. You’ll get there—you just need to keep at it. Don’t expect language-learning miracles and be kind to yourself.

Of course, it helps if your partner or the people with whom you’ve relocated want to learn the local language to fluency level. If not, you’ll need to come to terms with more independent socializing. (If you’ve moved solo, leaving someone behind when you want to socialize in the local language poses less of a problem.)

And as to socializing: Getting to the socializing part of cultural integration, especially with locals in the local language, will take time and effort. Don’t get discouraged. Keep at it, keep working on your language skills, and eventually you’ll break into a social circle somewhere. I promise.

With the right motivation and persistence—you’ll get there.

P.S.—Interested in other articles I’ve written about language acquisition (including my journey to learning French)? Click here for my ever-expanding language-learning article repository.